Black and White Morality
by Artemis's Liege
Summary: And though Joseph knows Rogue is the reason Ms. Marvel is comatose, he won't hate her. He can't even judge her for it. What's morality in love and war? Rogue/Joseph.
1. Freshman Year

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters belong to Marvel. This page has/does/will not engender any sort of material profit.

This fic was inspired by a request from **defying3reason**. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

For Joseph, working in the hospital is not exciting or tragic. It's boring: he's on the coma ward. Not to be insensitive, but being stuck working in the area where all of the patients are constantly unconscious is dull and kind of depressing.

A few weeks of volunteering, and Joseph already knows the pattern: most coma patients don't have visitors all that often after they spend first two weeks in the hospital totally unresponsive. Their families and friends by then realize the seriousness of the condition and the unlikelihood that the patient is just going to magically awaken one day.

One patient has plenty of people stopping by to see her. Though the patient by the name of Carol Danvers is comatose, a steady stream of visitors continues to flow through her hospital room.

At first when Joseph works in the coma ward, he needs to have the supervision of a doctor or nurse. But after the first three months, the staff trusts him enough that he's allowed to carry out his duties on the ward mainly by himself.

Mount Sinai Hospital doesn't have candy stripers, only "student volunteers," who mostly just deliver flowers, balloons, and refreshments ordered for the patients through the hospital gift shop. Sometimes they check in visitors to the hospital at the reception desk that flanks the entrance to each floor.

On the coma ward, Joseph is mainly in charge of making sure the rooms remain clean and ascertaining the patients' charts and visitor logs are kept organized and on file. Fascinating work, really; he'll have to remember to thank his father for providing him with this scintillating opportunity to learn about the medical field.

To be honest, Joseph finds his responsibilities more than a little dull. Volunteering at the hospital for five hours each week isn't his choice: his father, Dr. Michael Stockton, head of the orthopedics department, is already determined that Joseph will follow in his footsteps and become a doctor.

Thus, depending on the season, Joseph hurries from cross country/swim team/track practice, missing chances to hang out with friends at least two nights a week in order to make his shift at the hospital.

After months of monotonous work, Joseph is ready to tell his dad that med school is out of the question. Frankly, at times he barely believes his golden-haired, clean-cut, no-nonsense father is related to either his platinum blonde, sarcastic self, or his hot-tempered, brunette gearhead of a brother.

Speaking of Kyle, while he gets to work an after-school job at a local auto repair shop when his sports practices let out, Joseph has the exciting privilege of siting at a desk, tapping a pen against a registry sheet, trying to avoid his homework of assigned reading for as long as possible.

Trust his father to stick him on a ward where the patients are always asleep, leaving little chance for human interaction.

As a result of his tedium, Joseph catches himself studying the primary visitors that the ward received, most whom are stopping by to see Carol Danvers.

This woman and her myriad of concerned loved ones piques Joseph's curiosity, especially because their visit times are sporadic at best. He begins observing them in the manner one might watch a television program.

Carol Danvers's visitors are somewhat outside of the ordinary; while there are the normal heartbroken parents, the father who shares her blonde hair and the mother who has her face shape, now crumpled by sadness and grief, others outside of the mainstream drop by as well.

They're an interesting bunch. There's a redheaded woman with close-cropped short hair, who dresses mostly in black and carries herself with a military-esque demeanor. Sometimes a well-built, black-haired man with a red trenchcoat and red-tinted sunglasses obscuring his face accompanies her.

Another ebony-haired man in good shape is a frequent caller; though he has a goatee, he wears sunglasses, dark and somewhat oversized, like those of a celebrity trying to avoid notice. Joseph thinks that he looks vaguely familiar, as if there's been multiple photos of him and more than once tries to place the man, but his name, Tony Howard, is rather mundane.

A tall brunette woman with sinewy muscle and long dark hair stops by almost every week; something nearly inexplicable about her movements unsettles Joseph. The best way he can describe it is that she seems to move like a spider, and the motions are rather uncanny when applied to a human.

The visitor who interests him the most is a teenage girl who sporadically comes up to the ward about every three weeks or so. Her long, straight hair is a rich auburn, the locks closest to her forehead bleached white as snow.

Dressed in casually punk-style clothing with dark colors, she moves with a swiftness hidden by her unobtrusive mannerisms. Her age is difficult to presume- her face is very pretty, but cold and remote, like that of a statue. Her gelid eyes, color irrelevant, hold a detached malice that appears to be directed at her perceived challengers, those who would question her presence in a hospital.

The first time she enters the ward, Joseph is taken aback by the intensity of her eyes, the aloofness of her elegant face, as if she cannot be bothered to form an expression. He never speaks to her while he sits at the desk; he simply indicates the sheet where visitors are obligated to sign in and then registers her on the computer. She doesn't spare him an unnecessary glance.

She simply moves forward, never looking back.

* * *

**A/N:**

I'm sure we all know who "Rose" is at this point. Seriously, who else would it be?

Joseph is a comic character who was a love interest for Rogue. He is now the star of this story.

Speaking of stories, another one of my fics, "Empty Silences", is closely connected to this one. Reading that fic might help you to understand this story.

Any guesses for who Carol's visitors are?

I'll do my best to update this story soon.


	2. Sophomore Year Part I

Rose Malentire. That's her name. Supposedly.

Joseph isn't exactly one for etymology, and a Spanish student besides, but he knows that "_mal_" is the French word for "bad" or "evil." And "entire" really explains itself.

The name seems to suit its owner, with the combination of her good looks and sullen but oddly intense demeanor. Joseph doesn't dwell on her often, but she always manages to grab his attention whenever she's nearby. Something about her is vaguely disquieting: she's not frightening, per see, but an aura of dissonance surrounds her.

He never encounters any of Carol's visitors actually in Carol's room until his sophomore year, when he has to double-check her chart for that day. And who should be in that room with the unresponsive Carol but Rose Entirely Bad.

She's sprawled in a chair, not quite slouching, facing the bed, but diagonally forward to the door. As she watches the unmoving figure in the bed, the expression on her face flickers to take the semblance of tension: her jaw tightens, her muscles stiffen, and her eyes radiate anger, though its target remains unknown.

"Excuse me," Joseph says, entering the room, meeting her eyes only briefly. She doesn't dodge his gaze, only keeps her eyes trained onto his steadily, never flinching away from his scrutiny.

She sits there silently, gazing at him with just a hint of annoyance in her otherwise carefully blank face.

Her reaction unsettles him. Her unapologetically deadpan demeanor is mystifying for someone still in her teenage years. Furthermore, it isn't as if Rose is some foster kid who's raised herself on the city streets; her clothes and coat are obviously of quality, and she's always clean and fresh, with perfect makeup and an unblemished complexion.

Joseph finishes hurriedly and leaves the room, grateful to escape his somewhat creepy peer. When shifts change and another volunteer takes over the coma ward for him, Rose Entirely Bad has yet to depart from Carol's side.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to my lovely reviewers! Feedback is awesome.

Carol's visitors, in order: her parents, Black Widow (Natasha Romanoff), Wonder Man (Simon Williams), Iron Man (Tony Stark), Spider-Woman (Jessica Drew), and Rogue.

I realize that I forgot about Captain America. I know that he had cancer and was frozen in the Evoverse, but in my fics, he's fine, kicking ass and taking names and leading the Avengers. Maybe I'll have him show up later in the story.


	3. Sophomore Year Part II

**A/N:** Another day, another chapter. Let me know what you enjoy, what you want to see more of, and what you can do without. Cheers! ;)

* * *

On her next visit, Rose's overall air is more calm and less startling. Her makeup is not quite as dark, and her clothing does not as noticeably lend itself to the goth style; in contrast, it's sleek, sophisticated, and simple, though apparently she still holds a grudge against pastel colors.

Her presence is less foreboding; she no longer looks like she's suspicious of everyone around her. She carries herself with a new sort of pride, characterized by self-assurance and competence rather than stubbornness.

The air of bitterness about her is gone, with a relaxed, unfazed demeanor in its place. Now, Rose seemed more capable of blending in, evading others' attention instead of drawing stares to her.

No longer can Joseph easily place the look in Rose's eye, which, by the way, are remarkably green. The old anger has faded: instead the emerald orbs are characterized by a perpetual gleam of amusement, as though she's a detached observer who finds the efforts of everyone else laughably unimpressive.

But there's also an element of something darker present in her gaze, a less fathomable, nearly abstruse aspect, of which Joseph has only been able to catch a glimpse.

She gives him a noncommittal smile as she signs out in the guestbook after she's finished her visit, and he surprises himself by speaking to her.

"Hey, Rose, would you like to get a coffee with me? My shift is over in ten minutes." The words fly out of Joseph's mouth without much thought, and he's split between cursing his impulsiveness and congratulating himself on his courage to approach this coolly beautiful and very aloof girl.

Rose looks at him steadily for several minutes, and Joseph is overwhelmed by the notion that she's scrutinizing him, though to her credit, she's a master of subtlety. If his father hadn't so often cautioned he and Kyle to be wary of other people, Joseph may have been fooled.

Then an enigmatic smile faintly quirks her lips. "On whose invitation, might I ask?"

Feeling foolish, Joseph realizes that he'd forgotten to introduce himself. Abruptly, he stands, extending his hand to Rose. "Joseph Stockton, student volunteer."

A perfectly arched eyebrow rises, but she accepts his hand, with a grip atypically strong for someone of her age and gender. "I'm Rose Malentire, but you already seem to know that. And I guess I'll be seeing you in the hospital cafeteria in ten minutes.

Joseph smiles, trying to keep his cool. "Sounds good."

The next ten minutes inch by as his stomach flip-flops with nervous excitement, and he has to mentally remind himself to stay calm when he goes to find Rose in the cafeteria.

"Do you go to school around here?" He asks her when they sit down with their coffee. It's a safe question, a stock inquiry for polite conversation. Besides, he's curious about her.

Rose smiles briefly. "I attend an accelerated school in Westchester County. It's about an hour or so away from here."

"Do you like it there?" Joseph queries, wondering what such a school would be like.

"The people there are great," Rose says with conviction in her voice. Her tone takes on an uncommon seriousness, with consideration to her age and experience. "I'd die for any of them."

This response perturbs Joseph, but the conversation continues, and all in all, he enjoys their time together.

* * *

They again meet in the cafeteria several more times, after Joseph has completed his duties and Rose is finished visiting Carol.

One day, he works up the nerve to ask Rose about her attachment to Carol.

"Are you related to her?" He questions out of the blue one day.

Rose doesn't so much as need to ask whom he's talking about. "No."

There's a pause between them.

"But you _are_ close to her." Joseph waits for her to elaborate.

And Rose does. Barely. "She and my mother have a history together."

Rose doesn't clarify what the relationship might have been; for all Joseph knows, Rose's mother and Carol Danvers could have been anything from business partners to lesbian lovers.

But Rose is so taciturn about the issue that he doesn't broach the subject.


	4. Junior Year Part I

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! Be sure to let me know your thoughts on this chapter.

* * *

They proceed to see each other throughout their sophomore year, which stretches out into the summer. Joseph isn't quite sure to call their relationship. A friendship? That seems too casual for two people who met in the hospital while one was grieving over the fallen body of a loved one.

But there isn't anything romantic between them. Rose has never suggested that she has anything but platonic feelings for him, and none of her actions have indicated an amorous interest. Besides, Joseph goes out with a few other girls every now and again, though it's never anything serious. He's not sure that he would want it to be, anyway.

The "relationship" that exists between he and Rose is somewhat strange in itself. They continue to meet each other, yet never quite reveal too much about themselves. Rose is somewhat guarded, as if she has too many secrets to keep and has to suppress the urge to allow them to spill out of her mouth, and her wary demeanor affects Joseph.

Yet he feels drawn to her all the same; he can't resist the impulse to always try to get closer to her, to become a more significant part of her world.

But there's still that darker element about her, lurking beneath her pretty, alabaster face and toned body with long legs. She can't totally hide whatever it is that's troubling her, and her brooding shows through at times.

Still, they continue to visit various coffee shops together, some of which are very beatnik places, filled with overstuffed armchairs and burning incense. Others are more stylish, with abstract oil paintings and hanging lamps of very modern design. A few are off-beat: cement tables set with rainbow tiles, statues of the Buddha, complete with lines of dangling beads strung from the ceiling, separating each booth.

Sometimes it's more of a cafe type of setting, where the scent of pastries hangs heavy and rich, delicious, like sugary moisture after a long rain. The two of them even go out to dinner a few times, at moderately priced bistros and once, a German restaurant during Oktoberfest.

They order separate coffees so they can taste one another's, split sandwiches in order to save room for dessert, and then wind up splitting those as well.

Unfortunately for them both, this peaceful existence cannot last. A shock hits them both, when one day Joseph makes his first rounds of the afternoon and finds that Carol Danvers is no longer occupying the hospital room.

"Her parents moved her," Jane Foster, a nurse, informs Joseph. "Since her condition had stabilized, her parents decided they wanted to keep her in their house."

"How could they do that?" Joseph asks in puzzlement. "Doesn't she need all sorts of medical equipment?"

Jane nods. "Yes. I imagine that they're renting the equipment for now."

Joseph doesn't respond.

"It's almost heartwarming, in a sad way," Jane goes on. "You can see how much her parents still care for her. They're not just abandoning her to lie on a hospital bed forever. They still want her to be a part of their lives."

"Do you think she'll ever wake up?" Joseph inquires suddenly.

"I don't know," Jane replies seriously. "But miracles can happen, Joseph. It would be good for you if you could see one."

This development catches both he and Rose off-guard, and Joseph doesn't know how to react. He wishes that he could freely emphasize with Rose, but she's so inscrutable, almost detached. He can't predict how she would view his open expression of concern and worries that she view take offense to perceived pity or condescension.

The room appears oddly small without the familiar sight of Carol Danvers there. But he doesn't have much time to muse on it: Rose arrives to visit Carol. Joseph does his best to break the news gently to her, but she strides to the empty room and stands in the center, surrounded by the stark walls.

"I knew this was going to happen one day." Rose's voice is level and unemotional.

Joseph isn't sure what to say. He wants to question why she can't merely visit Carol at her home, but he knows that this isn't the time.

He walks closer to Rose and stops at her side. "Rose, if there's anything I can do -"

She turns and wraps her arms around him in a hug. He's stunned by this affectionate gesture- she is most definitely not a touchy-feely person, and in the year he's known her, she's always kept her distance.

Her hug is not the stereotypical gentle and tender female embrace out of saccharine sweet romance stories, with diabetes-inducing declarations of "true love" and maudlin promises, completely empty of substance.

Instead, she wraps her arms around him with such force that his ribcage feels crushed; her hug is reminiscent of veteran soldiers embracing at Vietnam reunions.

They stand that way for several moments; Joseph attempts to relax. He can sense the energy pulsing through her body, the strength in her wiry form. Pressed up against Rose, Joseph can't help but notice her lithe, lean muscles and the firmness of certain distinctly feminine attributes.

The scent of her rich hair makes itself readily available to him, and oddly enough, though Joseph can't place it, he's reminded decidedly of sunlight.

She lets him free and steps back, offering him a casual smile that appears genuine, as if she hasn't just lost contact with a person whom she deeply admired. "Coffee?"

For whatever reason, his stomach flip-flops at her smile, and he's responding affirmatively without a thought. "Of course."

* * *

Days later, when he's out running on his school's track, his mind drifts to the subject of Rose and Carol. A new thought occurs to him.

Rose had mentioned that her mother and Carol were familiar with one another.

But Rose was shocked to see that Carol had been moved. She had reacted as though the very idea was totally unexpected.

Obviously, Rose and her mother are not in contact with Carol's parents.

So, how exactly _were_ they connected to Carol?

* * *

**A/N:** BTW, Jane Foster originally was a nurse in the comics. She was changed into an astrophysicist for her role in the movie.


	5. Junior Year Part II

**A/N:** Hope everyone is enjoying the story.

* * *

By the time Joseph is halfway finished with his junior year of high school, he has yet to ever take the same girl out on more than three dates, let alone snag a legitimate girlfriend.

This is mostly due to his overbearing father insisting Joseph spend less time on his social life and more time hitting the textbooks and volunteering at the hospital. Joseph's brother, Kyle, the lucky bastard, isn't constrained by A.P. courses and their father's unrealistic expectations, so he now has a regular job at the auto shop, where he makes actual money.

Furthermore, his relationship with Rose, which remains unnamed, has hit a lull. There's less intrigue than frustration at this point- what does she want with him? Is she ever going to make a move? Is she just playing games with him? Why is she so vague about her own life?

Still, he continues to see her regularly.

Somehow, Rose has gained entry to an Irish pub, of all places, where they now sit, in a corner booth at the back, surrounded by smoky air.

As they wait for the sultry young waitress to bring their orders, Joseph, bored and apathetic to conversation, concentrates on the salt and pepper shakes for several minutes. Weariness overwhelms him: most of the previous night was devoted to editing his term paper for Honors English.

One of the shakers- salt- moves.

At first, Joseph barely believes his eyes. He blinks several times, refocuses, and imagines the pepper shaker inching to the left. He tries to pour his very will into the image.

The small container, with its glass body and metal lid, does so, though somewhat slowly and awkwardly.

Joseph grins in giddy excitement, too astonished to think properly, but he regains his senses and quickly glances at Rose to check if she's noticed anything.

She's gazing at him with a grin to rival that of the Cheshire Cat. Using one hand to press her knife against the opposite index finger of her other hand, she twists the stainless steel eating utensil. Once wound into a spiral, she places the reshaped metal in the middle of the table, an incomprehensible look in her eyes.

Reeling with shock at this amazing display of physical strength, Joseph is nearly too dumbfounded to realize her challenge.

Instinctively, Joseph centers on the metal, unfurling it, restoring its original shape. He's shaking with effort as he inwardly speaks to it, coaxing the steel to his will. And within moments, the knife is back in its basic, if somewhat rudimentary, form.

What . . . ?" Joseph shakes his head, spreading his shaking palms on the table's cool surface. "I don't understand."

"We're different." Rose gives her enigmatic smile, which maximizes the appeal of her face through the sly and secretive look it casts on her features. Joseph feels his old spark for her flare back up again, even before she reaches across the table and grasps his hand.

Joseph smiles at her, too happy at the moment to question this bizarre new development. "I guess so." He gives her hand a squeeze, and now, he can't think of any better way to spend the evening than with her.


	6. Junior Year Part III

Joseph has been honing his abilities, practicing when he's sure he's alone, either in the basement or in his room. Rose tells him that he's like her: a mutant, born with a specific genetic coding that enables unusual abilities. She knows other mutants, she tells him. If he ever desires, she can arrange a meeting, but it's his choice.

As it would so happen,it seems Joseph can control metal; he suspects the reason the salt and pepper shakers seemed so cumbersome were because he could only"grasp" the objects by their metal lids. He tries to research this abnormality by Googling "metal" and "telekinesis" one night. After sifting through pages of results, he finds that his range of abilities involve electromagnetism, and he has the potential to not command the various types of metal but also use electricity.

He and Rose continue to see each other, and they're now casually dating. They do normal boyfriend-girlfriend activities- art museums, car shows, movies, restaurants. They only discuss their abilities in the vaguest terms while in public.

Rose brings a car by his house one day, a red Mustang convertible with a white stripe down the hood. She only offers a smile when he inquires about their destination, and drives for almost two hours, until the cityscape has given way to the hilly countryside with thick groves of trees.

The sun shines overhead as they exit the car.

"What are we doing?" Joseph asks with smile, shaking his head at Rose's antics.

"You'll see." Combined with the gleam in her eyes, the mischievous smile on her face is very sensual, and Joseph feels his heart skip a beat.

They start on the path into the forest, but once about a half mile in, Rose diverges into the woods. Joseph follows, wondering what exactly she has up her sleeve.

The entire forest seems to have gone quiet, but Joseph is comforted by the stillness rather than unsettled. The light pours in through thick overgrowth, dappling the forest floor with patterns of gold, like stained glass. The air is thick and damp with a refreshing chill.

A clearing edged with thickets broadens before them, and Rose feet lift off the ground, her body hovering in mid-air.

Stupefied, Joseph can only gape at her.

She grins."Surprised?"

"Well, yeah," Joseph replies. "It's not every day that a guy finds out that his girlfriend can fly."

She arches an eyebrow. "'Girlfriend'? Tell me, Joe, when did we upgrade our relationship status?"

Joe shrugs, trying to be casual. "I wouldn't mind if we did." Rose doesn't appear to get the hint, so he continues in order to salvage the conversation. "Anything else you can do?"

"I can speak French," Rose says with a shrug.

"Seriously?" Joseph has been a Spanish student four years now. "That's like a mutation all on it's own."

Rose didn't deny this, rewarding his friendly jab with a wry smile.

"Hey, Rose." Joseph tries to push away his nervousness. "If you have super-strength and can fly, would you mind, um . . . helping me fly?"

A grin lights up Rose's face, and she swoops down wraps one arm around his waist without hesitation, easily holding him by her side.

As the two lift into the air, their bodies rushing forward to empty space as the wind whips through their hair, Joseph thinks that he's never felt such amazing freedom.


	7. Senior Year Part I

While Joseph is still in his senior year of high school, Rose has already graduated, having completed two years in one. She moves to New York City at almost the same time as a new Avenger debuts on the East Coast team based in the city. This new hero is the second Ms. Marvel: the first unofficially departed from the group about three years ago.

Now, this replacement is fighting the good fight with the Avengers, but also is hidden from the public eye. Ms. Marvel II wears an armored bodysuit and mask that completely hides any recognizable traits, never gives interviews, and only performs security duty at the Avengers-sponsored charity events instead of interacting with any of the public or giving speeches.

This Ms. Marvel is a far cry from the original, who had long blonde, streaming loose behind her as she zoomed through the sky and smiled while talking to the reporters, her bright blue eyes visible through her domino mask that couldn't cover her face's vivaciousness.

Joseph finds this new Ms. Marvel interesting, but Rose is dismissive of her for unknown reasons.

And then Rogue shows up at Joseph's house at nearly ten o'clock one Thursday night.

His father and his brother are both out working, while he's sprawled across his bed with his physics notes, studying for the last major test of the year, and thank God. He feels also though he's already sacrificed his soul for this class, and Christ knows he's given up his social life.

A sharp rap on the glass of the windowpane startles him into leaping off the bed and whirling in that direction. To his horror, there is a person staring at him from outside, face inches from the glass, but within seconds, he recognizes Rose.

"What the hell are you doing?" He hisses, pushing the window open.

"Here, help me," she says, navigating the unconscious body of a teenage girl through the window.

Too stunned at the moment to question Rose's commands, Joseph accepts the petite frame of a young brunette, imagining what the neighbors in his upscale suburban residence would say. "Rose, what the- "

"I don't have time, Joe," she interrupts, passing him a small black case through the window. "There are I.V. patches in here. Use them, please." With that, she rockets up into the sky, leaving him behind with the unknown girl.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation at Rose's casual dismissal of his questions, Joseph lifts the girl up and places her as gently as he can on his comfortable bed, extracting his notebook and scratch-work notes from under her shoulders. She doesn't so much as stir in her sleep, even as he applies the patch to the back of her wrist. Grabbing an extra blanket from the hallway closet, he tries not to think about either his father or brother walking in on him with an unresponsive girl.

He briefly checks out the girl without being too intrusive- she doesn't appear to have a head injury, and her arms and legs don't seem to have any broken bones. Nevertheless, he uses a spare pillow to elevate the girl's legs just in case.

Aware that "I had to take care of my girlfriend's friend and was unable to study" would not be an acceptable excuse to avoid the test, Joseph stretches out on the floor with his notes, occasionally glancing up, checking on his unexpected guest. He removes the pillow from under her feet after the first hour; even with his medical experience, he's not sure if it would be harmful to leave her in that position for an extended period of time.

Time passes. No one else arrives.

The house is eerily quiet: if he's still, Joseph can hear the chime of the downstairs hall clock, the lonely sound echoing throughout the house, as though seeking out someone who cares enough to hear its message.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews. Feedback is very appreciated.


	8. Senior Year Part II

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews. I find feedback awesome and helpful.

In this chapter . . . the truth will be revealed . . .

* * *

He must have fallen asleep, because Rose is suddenly shaking him awake.

"I'm back," she whispers. "Just wanted to let you know."

He sits up, muscles faintly sore from laying on the carpet rather than some sort of cushioning. Vaguely, he wonders how she managed to enter his house without any inside help, but a more pressing concern takes hold as he notices what she's wearing.

"Ms. Marvel's uniform? Are you a cosplayer or something?" It's only as the words leave his mouth that he realizes how stupid he sounds.

Rose shakes her head, a weary expression on her face. "Let me explain. God, I should told you this months ago.

"The reason the first Ms. Marvel disappeared was because of me. My mutation isn't super strength or flight- it's draining a person of their thoughts, talents, memories, and sometimes, superhuman abilities by skin to skin contact. Back then, I couldn't control my mutation. There was a misunderstanding when I encountered Ms. Marvel, which, of course, escalated to violence."

"What else would a superhero do but fight strangers with superpowers, only to discover later that it's just a misunderstanding?" Joseph says sarcastically, trying to cover his astonishment as Rose revealed the truth to him.

"I held onto her for too long. I absorbed her very psyche, and it blended with mine, leaving her an empty shell. It was only a powerful telepath who was able to restore my own mind."

Joseph tries to absorb this shocking development. "How old were you?"

"Fourteen," Rose responds flatly.

Fourteen. Jesus God.

"Her abilities were latent in my mind for the next two years," Rose continued. "I learned to control my own abilities when I came to terms with hers. I might have been able to control my own mutation sooner, but the incident with Ms. Marvel scarred me and prevented my mutation from developing. But now, here I am, with the Avengers."

"So, you're the current Ms. Marvel." Dumbfounded, Joseph shakes his head. "Damn. That's unexpected."

"You should know that my name isn't Rose Malentire," his suddenly nameless girlfriend says. "It's Anna Marie D'Ancanto. Or Rogue. Rose was an alias I used for high school."

Joseph spreads his hands helplessly. "I don't follow."

"Originally, I was part of a mutant terrorist group," Rose says casually, as though she's commenting on the house's interior decoration. "My aunt Carrie- the woman I thought to be my aunt and who later personally identified as my adoptive mother, Mystique, was one of the founders. She raised me to be one of the agents. That's when I encountered Carol Danvers. Ms. Marvel. Whichever."

The air leaves Joseph's lungs as though he's been sucker-punched. "'Carol Danvers'?" He echoes weakly. "That woman . . . that was the first Ms. Marvel?"

"Yes," comes the even reply. "My uncontrollable abilities led me to absorb my aunt's personality and battle Ms. Marvel. However, afterward, one of my aunt's fellow terrorists eliminated Carol's mind but tampered with my memories of the event. When I discovered the extent of my supposed mother's lies, I joined with a group of mutants known as the X-Men, who were preparing to fight for peace between humans and mutants when we were inevitably discovered."

"'Fight for peace,'" Joseph repeats, smiling wanly at the irony of the phrase. A memory floats into his mind. "These X-Men you mentioned, they're the people you wanted me to meet, aren't they?"

Rose- or rather Anna, confirms this with a tired nod. "I understand if you never want to see my face again, Joe. I never should have allowed the truth to go unspoken for this long." She hesitates. "But I didn't want to lose you. I thought that if you knew what I'd done, then you would hate me." She delivers this statement with little emotion, almost matter-of-fact.

More than slightly stunned, Joseph considers what she's said.

In a simpler world, where morality was only black and white, evil and good, he would hate her, or at least want her away from him.

But Anna has visited the hospital frequently. She hasn't been gloating, but genuinely mournful; obviously, she regrets what she has done.

Really, he isn't sure how he would've reacted, with the person who raised him convincing him to be a terrorist to fight for his liberty, and then his personality diluted, influenced by another's thoughts and emotions.

More than likely, she was just trying protect her aunt/mother at the time and defend herself. Anna has survived, though, and she seems no worse for it.

And now, here she is, trying to make amends by donning Ms. Marvel's costume and playing the role of a superhero.

So much new, astounding information. Too much for him to process, almost.

His girlfriend is a superhero, because she unintentionally disabled the hero whom she's replacing. And she's a mutant, a member of the next stage of evolution. She's like him, she understands him.

It's not Joseph's place to forgive Anna, but he certainly doesn't have to hold a grudge.

As for lying to him for several years . . . that's a shock, but she has revealed the truth now.

All along, he's known that she's not innocent or pure. Anna is no ingénue, no swooning damsel for him to sweep up on the back of his white horse and gallop off together into the sunset.

And this is definitive confirmation- she's admitting that she's not only physically stronger than him, but also easily capable of deceiving him and manipulating his emotions.

God help him, this may very well be the first in a long string of unhealthy relationships, in addition to an indication that he doesn't care about virtue or honesty in his significant others; but when Anna affirms that she's been lying to him- mostly by omission, though- he loves her in spite of any it. He can't forget his devotion to her; he doesn't want to deny her.

It's kind of sick, but the pressure of impending college and after that, med school, could be getting to him.

He looks at Anna directly. "I don't hate you. I've never been in that kind of situation. I'm not sure what I would have done."

She lets out a long exhale. "Thank you."

"But why did you join the Avengers as 'Ms. Marvel'?" Josephs asks, intrigued. "Why couldn't you just be yourself, Rogue, the mutant?"

"Because I needed to compensate Carol Danvers for my actions," Anna responds flatly. "With her gone, there was no one else to take up her legacy, and I had to do my duty as the recipient of her Kree abilities. I wanted to honor her, to show that I respect her, even though I was the one to bring her down in the first place."

There's a brief silence between them, interrupted when the girl in the bed stirs from unconsciousness but doesn't wake.

"Who is she?" Joseph asks Anna, indicating the bed.

Anna gazes at the prone figure. "Her name is Kitty Pryde. She's a friend of mine from my boarding school. We roomed together for years before I moved here to New York."

"She's Jewish," Joseph notes, spotting the Star of David charm the girl wore on her necklace. "How did she get hurt?"

"We fought crime together," Anna says frankly. "We started off when we were stupid kids in freshman year, but we still continued after I joined up with the Avengers. Not supervillain stuff, but normal crimes. Muggings, robberies, thievery- that kind of stuff. Kitty and I have costumes and everything- normally, I don't go as Ms. Marvel, because that would attract too much attention."

She considers him with her eyes. "A costumed identity is something you may want to consider, if you ever have to fight anyone out in the street or escape government agents. I don't imagine that 'mutant' would be something you'd want to add to your college applications."

"Do you think that it's going to come down to being hunted by our own government?" Joseph asks in trepidation. The though of his father and brother- his family –in danger due to his own genetics is enough to churn his stomach.

"I'm not sure, Joe," Anna replies. She glances at the clock; it's nearing two o'clock in the morning. "But enough of my paranoia. Go to sleep."

Snagging a few pillows and blankets from the linen closet, Joseph clears away his notes and spreads the bedding on the floor before lying down. Anna spends a few minutes sitting with Kitty before joining him. She kisses his jaw lightly, then lays against him, and just as Joseph adjusts to the presence of her warm body, wiry but solid with muscles, he drifts off.

By the time the alarm clock jolts him awake the next morning, both the girls have already departed, with a note written on his bedroom mirror in lipstick that simply reads, "Thanks."

And once Joseph wipes the lipstick away, all evidence of Anna's presence are gone, as if she were just a part of a hazy dream or simply a ghost passing through the night.


	9. Senior Year Part III

_It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons._ ~Johann Schiller

* * *

The truth comes to light about ten days later, when Kyle is nearly suspended for fighting at school. There's less than a week till graduation and one would think that Kyle would face dire punishment, but their father is able to sooth any ruffled feathers by making a hefty donation to the school's athletic funds.

The house's atmosphere is charged when Joseph arrives home from an end-of-the-season track meeting, during which he finally was able to turn in his uniform after locating it at the bottom of his clothes hamper.

Despite its tasteful decoration, the living room is crackling with tension when Joseph, unsuspecting, walks inside. One glance at his father and his brother each and Joseph steels himself for the worst. "Did Mount Sinai change their policy? Will I no longer be able to attend?"

Since his father works for the associated hospital, Joseph will have a discounted tuition rate at the university. Joseph know there's no way he's going to be able to make the payments for medical school otherwise, doctor father or no.

"For God's sake," Micheal Stockton sighs, rubbing his forehead and loosening his silk tie. His white doctor's coat still covers his shoulders. "This isn't about college, for once. It's about your genetics."

"Genetics?" Kyle questions from where he's sprawled back on the sofa. He props his workboots up on the coffee table. "What do those have to do with me beating people up?"

"Another fight?" Joseph asks cautiously, slipping his backpack off one shoulder and settling on the sofa beside his non-identical twin brother.

Michael sets a bottle of scotch on the small round table between the set of striped armchairs. Before he responds, he sits down and pours himself a glass, sipping several times. "Neither of you are my biological children."

A moment passes in silence as Joseph and Kyle absorb this flat statement, and then Joseph feels as though the air has been forcibly removed from his lungs, and there's a persistent buzzing in his ears.

However, Kyle seems to take this development in stride. "So what, did you steal us off the maternity ward of the hospital, or something?"

"_No_." Michael closes his eyes briefly, like he's attempting to dispel an unappealing thought. Joseph sits stunned, unable to do anything but watch his father's normally inscrutable expression shift on and off his handsome features: emotion and stoicism are locked in a battle for dominance of his face. He rubs his forehead with his left hand, and for the first time, Joseph notices the conspicuous absence of any wedding ring.

"I had just finished my college bachelor's degree in human genetics when I was contacted by a woman named Amanda Mueller," Michael begins in a weary voice. "She claimed that she was the leading scientist of a government research department. She made me an offer: if I were to lend myself to assist in the department's analysis of the mutant gene, then all of my education expenses, both college and medical school, would be paid by the government."

At this statement, Kyle tosses his Joseph an oblique look, but Joseph is zeroing in on his father and pays his brother little attention. His surroundings suddenly seem completely surreal, as if he's a casual bystander watching a play unfold at its dramatic climax.

"And that's what I did, for my four years of medical school," Michael continues. His tone is devoid of emotion, but there's an wary, tired note to it. "I mostly analyzed samples of D.N.A. under a microscope and documented my findings. I had no interaction whatsoever with any experiments or subjects."

"I arrived early one day to discuss some of my reports with Dr. Adler, Mueller's assistant, but the laboratory fell under attack by a mutant terrorist. Dr. Adler was injured, and in the aftermath of the attack, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s officials conducted an official investigation."

"So mutants are more than just an urban legend, then," Kyle muses, in a calm manner that would not be out of place while ruminating about the weather.

"Investigation?" Joseph breaks free of the shock to question his father's words. "Why was there an investigation?"

"It was discovered that neither Mueller's experiments nor test subjects were registered with the S.H.I.E.L.D. science department- she'd never received approval for any of the procedures. Instead, there was paperwork orchestrated for proxy experiments that never existed- these were just a part of Mueller's ploy. She had a name for the series of illicit experiments- she called them the 'Black Womb Project.' The original Black Womb Project had begun decades ago before it was shut down for the first time. Mueller always somehow managed to be a part of it."

"So what did you do then?" Kyle appears only marginally curious, as though he was being polite while listening to someone recount an activity that didn't particularly capture his interest.

"When S.H.I.E.L.D. finished their investigation, I was free to leave." Michael sighs, and Joseph can never recall seeing his father's hazel eyes so incredibly desolate: their usual spark of energy and determination has been extinguished.

"My school fees were covered, as Mueller had promised. But I didn't want to drag my history along with me, so I arranged my residency in another state and moved. I stayed on at the hospital after my residency was finished. One day, I had a phone call when I arrived home from work."

"If a single phone call was that notable, than that whole thing about young doctors not having social lives must be true," says Kyle.

Michael doesn't acknowledge him. "It was Irene Adler, of all people, calling me to inform that she had removed the two remaining test subjects from the research base before S.H.I.E.L.D. had the chance to take them into custody."

"She did this not out of malice, but because she believed that S.H.I.E.L.D. would lock them away for observation instead of allowing them to live normal lives. Irene wasn't a a bleeding heart or a pushover, but she certainly wasn't a cruel woman. I have no doubt that her part in the Black Womb Project was thanks to Mueller's deception as well."

"The test subjects . . . " Joseph turns woodenly to his father. "Me and Kyle. Am I right?"

Michael nods heavily. "You were separate, normal human infants that happened to display the X-gene through genetic tests. Mueller was able to obtain custody of the two of you because you both were wards of the state."

"From what Irene told me, you two were each injected with D.N.A. of a very specific and powerful mutant. Both of them were threats to the general public and wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D. Part of Mueller's project was to imbue you with the mutation of these dangerous terrorists. Once your genetics were designed as Mueller pleased, Irene believed she planned to raise you both to combat your predecessors, who had the same abilities. You both would be studied and evaluated, and if you two were deemed successes, she would probably continue the procedure with other mutant infants." Michael takes a long pull from his liquor.

"Who were the mutants?" Kyle asks eagerly.

"Kyle has the genes of a feral mutant known largely as 'Sabretooth.' Joseph is modeled after a mutant called 'Magneto,' who has refined control of metal on an enormous scale. Basically, you two are clones."

Shock blazes through Joseph as his windpipe constricts. His trembling fingers dig into the sofa's cushioned arm. He's not an independent person, but a clone? How is all of this happening? The revelations keep on hitting him, one after another, with no recovery time. "How did you come to be our father?" The steadiness of his voice surprises him.

"Since the mutant attack on the base, Irene's vision had been steadily worsening. No matter what measures she took, nothing could be done to preserve her eyesight. She wanted to be sure that you two would have another guardian, an able-bodied person who would be capable of caring for two young children."

"And she chose you," Joseph realizes.

"She chose me," Michael confirms. "She thought that I might like to be a part of your lives due to our intertwined past. Odd thing about that woman, even when we were scientists together, every one of her speculations would be correct . . . almost as though she could see the future . . ." He trails off.

Joseph feels like there's a lump lodged in his throat. "Why did you agree to take care of us?"

Michael pauses, and Joseph watches his normally self-assured father search for a reply. "I suppose it was because I wanted to atone for my past involvement in playing God with your lives, even if it was inadvertent. And also . . . I wished for a family. Someone for me to greet when I came home after spending a twelve-hour shift at the hospital."

"You were lonely," is Kyle's simple summarization.

"I suppose," Michael reluctantly agrees. For a moment, Joseph thinks he may elaborate on the subject, but his father changes course. "In any case, you two came into my care when you were both starting the first grade. When you were nine, I was offered the position of head of the orthopedics department at Mount Sinai, and we moved here."

A knot in Joseph's chest tightens. "Just like that, huh?" His voice has more than a little bitterness to it, but a steady wave of numbness is already washing over him. The woman who he barely remembered wasn't his deceased mother after all, but a person with no relation to him whatsoever.

Michael stands, his face smooth, but serious. "I want you both to know that as far as I'm concerned, none of this changes our family. Different D.N.A., mutants or not, the two of you will always be my sons." He clasps them both on the shoulder in an undeniably paternal gesture. "I'll be in my study if you need me." With that, he exited the room, taking his glass and scotch bottle with him.

As his father departs, Joseph observes the man with a strange sense of detachment, trying to rationalize the sudden discoveries. But Kyle claps him on the back.

"If Dad took out that scotch, I bet he left the liquor cabinet open. Let's grab something." Kyle heads off to the kitchen, and Joseph follows him, moving on automatic, vaguely curious about his brother's distinct lack of disquiet over what they've just learned.

Absorbed in his own thoughts as Kyle rifles through the various vessels that consist of their father's wide collection of vice, Joseph barely notices when Kyle holds up different bottles, asking his preference. He's too busy wondering about all the secrets people have decided to divulge to him recently, information his father has provided, which relates directly to his life, and Anna's disclosures, which don't.

But both his father and his girlfriend have finally let him in on the truth after long periods of lies, both active and by omission.

He doubts that either ever intended to hurt him, but newly developed cynicism whispers that maybe he shouldn't trust others so readily from this point forward.

He was a mutant, and not just a mutant, but a fundamental clone of a mutant terrorist.

"I'm not sure if I can believe it," Joseph mutters to himself.

"That story Dad told us?" Kyle removes a glass jug of spiced rum, then sweeps a hand at the cabinet's contents. "Pick your poison, Joe."

Joseph's eyes wander from label to label, not sure if he could currently stomach any of his father's rich wine, tequila, or whiskey, before he spots a a clear glass carafe filled with similarly translucent liquid, with what appears to be Cyrillic lettering on the side.

He indicates that particular bottle. "Hand me that one."

"Vodka," Kyle tells him. "It looks like this was actually imported from Russia, too."

When he accepts the vodka, Joseph surprises himself by taking a swig directly from the bottle; Kyle, unexpectedly, actually retrieves a proper glass for himself before indulging in his liquor.

"Yeah, I think Dad was legit back there," Kyle goes on. "It would explain a lot of things. Like why my hair is dark ash blonde while Dad's is that muted, dull gold color, and you look like Draco Malfoy. But your hair looks good when it's longer." Kyle sends him an appraising glance before opening the freezer drawer at the bottom of the large, sleek refrigerator.

"So, you believe him." Joseph watches his brother carefully to evaluate his reply, seeking reassurance that it's all right to continue to trust their father.

Kyle removes a carton of ice cream and closes the freezer before he responds. Whenever it's Kyle turn to do the grocery shopping, he always selects the most bizarre ice cream flavors he can find. Their father's favorite type is coconut, while Joseph likes anything with fudge.

But Kyle liked to be certain that the majority of ice cream in the house would be reserved for him and therefore purchased flavors everyone else found completely unappealing, ranging from the tamer choices, such as blueberry cheesecake or green tea with basil, to those considerably stranger, like buttered popcorn or French toast, and on one memorable occasion, shellfish.

Today, it was black licorice.

"I think he was being honest, for the most part." Kyle opens the silverware drawer and plucks out a spoon. "But he probably omitted a few things. Like how did that Mueller woman find him in the first place? Just by chance? I don't think so. I mean, out of thousands of students with degrees in genetics, she chose him? It's no coincidence. There's something about it he's not telling us."

He rips open the lid on the ice cream carton, revealing the sweet substance's coloration, which, in Joseph's opinion, causes it to resemble liquid tar.

"Another weird thing was finances." Kyle plunges the spoon into the ice cream. "Okay, so the government pays his remaining college bills and all of his medical school fees. That's done with. But what about money? How did he afford to move across states, rent a living space, complete a residency for which he was not paid, and later take on two young children when he's been a doctor for less than a year?"

Now that Kyle brings the discrepancies to his attention, Joseph feels foolish and panicked. "But you said you believed him."

"I do." Kyle scoops the ice cream into his mouth and swallows. "What he said about 'atonement' is pretty consistent with Dad's general character. He strikes me as the kind of person who would do that, accept responsibility when he's not actually responsible, just because he feels obligated. But I think we grew on him once he got to know us." He holds out another spoonful of ice cream to Joseph. "Want some?"

Atonement. The reason their father had decided to raise them as his family. The reason Anna was determined to carry on the costumed legacy as Ms. Marvel.

Joseph considers the dark frozen dessert momentarily, then grabs the spoon.

Atonement. He and Kyle were created because dangerous mutants refused to atone for their terroristic actions and reform.

He swallows the ice cream, but the saccharine-sweet aftertaste remained on his tongue.

Atonement. It brought people to do odd things, but also allowed them to reflect on their past and present choices, preparing them for those of the future.

* * *

**A/N:** The penultimate chapter! What awaits us?

Kyle is meant to resemble Kyle Gibney, . Wildchild, from the comics. In the comics, Wildchild was not a clone of Sabretooth; that's just my artistic license.

In the comics, Joseph is a clone of Magneto.

Michael Stockton of the comics is also known as Doctor Nemesis, a villain and foe of Hank Pym, and he was never involved in the Black Womb Project. Here, Michael Stockton actually was . . . hmm. Never mind, I think I'll keep that a secret for another. Let's just say he's nicer in this fic than his comic self.

Kyle is like Oz from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_: not much ever bothers him. But Kyle is unique in that he solves his problems with ice cream. However, I would not personally endorse that tactic.

Apparently, there is jalapeño ice cream. Ugh, not my cup of tea.

Feedback is always great.


	10. Senior Year Part IV

**A/N:** The epic conclusion to this thrilling tale!

* * *

After spending about twenty-four hours dwelling over his newfound heritage, Joseph explains his terroristic genetics to Anna following a conversation consisting of their mutual love for the theme of enduring friendship and demonstration of class warfare in S.E. Hinton's _The Outsiders_. She's completely composed as she absorbs this information, but she's an X-Man, an Avenger, and a street-patrolling vigilante- nothing probably fazes her that much anymore.

"I've spoken with Magneto. He's not a monster. He just wants to justify the wrongs done unto him," Anna explains, as if they're discussing why the grass grows.

Later, Joseph aims a question at her that's been bothering him since that night together: "Why didn't you take your friend for treatment at the X-Men headquarters or the Avengers' mansion?"

Rogue considers this for a moment prior to responding. "Convenience, mostly. Your house was closer, and it's more innocuous in case someone was monitoring me. S.H.I.E.L.D. is aware of the X-Men, but the Avengers aren't, and I'd like to keep it that way." She hesitated, then continued. "I suppose I didn't want to go back to the X-Men because I'm almost ashamed. I feel like a sellout, leaving them to hang out with the big league- in this case, the Avengers in their ivory tower, drinking exotic liquor and eating shawarma. And I don't trust the Avengers."

"Why not?" Joseph queries.

"They work for the government, Joe. They're hired mercenaries, and their job is to be America's propaganda figures, to renew faith the government's decisions, to quell any sort of uprising. Besides, I keep my mask, literal and figurative, on at all times around them. I don't want them to be personally involved with my life."

"You don't trust them." It isn't a question.

Anna meets his gaze evenly, but her eyes blaze with glacial fire of conviction. "There's a war coming, Joe. Mutants will be discovered by the public before the summer is out. No matter if the Avengers simply fall in line to persecute mutants, I'll stand my ground and fight for mutants' freedom. Even if I have to do it from the inside."

Her tone and assurance bring Joseph to remember Michael and his talk of atonement and responsibility. And Joseph knows, like his father and his friend before him, he also will have to accept responsibility and take action.

But at this point, he has nothing to atone for, and he hopes to keep it that way. And he's not certain what he wants to be responsible for.

* * *

Graduation takes place on a Thursday. Joseph spends the nights leading up to it with Anna. Together, they visit a small retro-style cinema each evening. To kick off the summer, the theater is showing the original _Star Wars_ trilogy in chronological order each night: _A New Hope_ on Monday, _The Empire Strikes Back_ on Tuesday, and _Return of the Jedi_ on Wednesday.

The movies provide an excellent opportunity for Joseph to escape from reality for two hours or so. For the past few days, he's been alternating between despairing his life as a fabrication and determinedly resolving to stay strong, to refuse to allow his genetics to predestine his future. His wavering and internal battles are exhausting and leave him on edge; he needs some fresh material for his brain to process, something that takes most of his concentration. His solution is the movies.

In the theater, the various thoughts bouncing around Joseph's brain, which include his family, his D.N.A., random formulas he's memorized this year, fly away, leaving room for his mind to focus on the movie. He's seen each film before; nevertheless, he's entranced by each episode, all too willing to indulge in his imagination and let the story take him away. The original _Star Wars_ trilogy represents a major part of his childhood- he can remember staying up late to watch the movies with Kyle as his father looked over medical reports. He remembers pretending to be Luke Skywalker with Kyle as Han Solo when the two frolicked on the playground during elementary school.

Nostalgia flares within Joseph during the scene with the binary sunset. The lonely violin music swells as the solitary figure of Luke gazes out onto the landscape with the two suns fading in the sky before him. This understated but memorable moment of the film brings back distant flashes of childhood memories to Joseph, and he longs for simpler times, when he was just an everyday kid in the suburbs of the Big Apple, not a mutant hiding out as a pre-med student.

He's certain to pay close attention to the second movie; he's seen this one a couple of times, but _Return of the Jedi_ was always his favorite, and _A New Hope_ was the first Star Wars movie to exist, so he practically knows both by heart. By default, this movie is the one he's watched the least.

The _Empire Strikes Back_ has a much darker, more serious tone, and it ends on a bleaker note: Han has been frozen in carbonite, and Luke has not only lost a hand, but also discovered he is the offspring his reviled rival. Throughout the movie, Joseph smiles as Yoda's wacky antics, engineered to secretly test Luke's character, and the flirtations between Han and Princess Leia, but his mood darkens along with the story. He vacates the theater after the credits that night trying to quell a feeling of hopelessness, as Anna walks by his side, crunching on popcorn.

The final part in the trilogy re-inspires Joseph, as the movie's mood again captures the spirit and soul of the initial adventure. Despite it being the end of an era, the closure of an amazing work, the movie has so much vitality and energy that even those annoying teddy bears get a free pass this time. Of course, the barely clothed alien girls capture his interest, and Joseph can appreciate Leia's slave girl costume in spite of the skeevy circumstances.

However, both he and Anna agree later that nearly every one of the digital "enhancements" to the movie is pointless and sometimes even irritating. They're able to agree on the top three gratuitous changes- first and foremost being the extended musical sequence in Jabba's palace, second is the collapse of Boba Fett's mystique as he abandons his mysterious and deadly image to flirt with some sexy backup singers, and third being the redesign of the Sarlacc pit, which now looks like the sandworms from _Beetlejuice_.

His mood lightened from what it's been these past few days, Joseph suggests he and Anna stop by a café for a late snack. The hour is just nine o'clock as they walk into the coffee place. Most of the other patrons appear to be college students, hipsters, which is to be expected- it's one of those spacious, earthy places, with gentle lighting and indie music playing softly over the stereo. Samples from the menu include basil smoothies, Nutella sandwiches, and organic raspberry honey mustard, in addition to dozens of types of coffee.

The walls are mainly neutral colors, decorated with tasteful but bland tones in order to make the vibrant stone carvings or rich oil paintings stand out against the background. Shallow clay bowls of herbs sit on the tables beside the containers of sugar packets, their heavy, musky aroma wafting into the air. Old-fashioned fans, arranged in a wide square, are kept in motion by a revolving belt around the fixtures that continuously cycles, propelling the blades, which ruffles the long silk curtains that enclose each window, allowing diners their privacy.

Anna and Joseph seat themselves beneath a sizable pen-and-ink drawing of Audrey Hepburn in her signature pose from _Breakfast at Tiffany's_, the likeness situated on heavy yellow paper reminiscent of parchment, positioned in an embellished wood frame.

"I have your graduation gift," Anna says after they give their order to their fedora-wearing waitress. She withdraws a small velveteen box from her pale blue, compact crossbody purse. Her outfight is very casual considering her normal dark, chic style: a white, gossamer peasant blouse with puffed sleeves, a gathered neckline, and blue and yellow embroidery down the front.

The graceful shirt stopped above her slim waist to display her dark leather belt with its bedizened metal buckle in the shape of a sideways oval, worn with light blue jeans that showcased her toned legs. Impeccable lilac polish coats her toenails, visible due to her slingback sandals. Auburn that hair flows beyond her shoulders shines under the lamps, pulled back from her alabaster face by a broad vintage clip. The style, with her hair loose but prevented from obscuring her face, accents her vivid green eyes.

Tonight, her gaze is intense, anticipatory.

Joseph accepts the box and pulls back the lid. Reposing on a satin cushion is an analogue watch of masculine design. According to the small card protruding from the cushion, it's fourteen-karat gold. The style of the piece is decorative while remaining refined rather than gaudy. Judging by the intricate details, the watch is mostly likely hand-crafted.

"Good Christ," Joseph murmurs. He can only imagine how much Anna shelled out for this extravagant article. He glances up at his girlfriend. "You didn't have to get this for me, Anna."

"I wanted to," Anna replies levelly. Since the night they spent together, her calm disposition has been unshakeable. She spreads her hands on the wooden table and fixes her eyes on his. "Cliché as it may be, I want to be friends with you, even when we do go our separate ways. You've helped me cultivate a life outside of the Avengers, outside of the X-Men. My relationship with you has allowed me to be my own person, to assert my own identity. Your presence in my life has freed me, let me be normal for a few hours every so often. I'm grateful."

"And what, you're trying to buy me, now?" Joseph jokes, and she smiles at him. He's grown to love her smile- there's happiness, but with just a hint mischief and schemes yet to come.

"I thought the watch could represent our time together," Rogue tells him, and when Joseph glances at the back of the watch's face, he can see words engraved in the metal. _To Joseph Stockton._

He grins. "It's spectacular." He leans over and lightly kisses Anna's jaw.

Years later, when the watch stops ticking and he takes it to a clock shop for repairs, all memories of Anna rush back to him as he finds the other part of the message on the inside of the metal casing: _Stay gold, Joe- Love, Rogue._

* * *

When Joseph is called forth for his speech as valedicatorian of his class, he's able to spot Anna sitting beside his father. He's introduced her to his family at last, and she'll be joining them when they go out for dinner that evening.

Today, she wears a form-fitting, short, ruched dress in royal blue, with beading on the shoulder straps. Combined with the style of her heels, the outfit seems less at place at a commencement ceremony than a club, as he later hears a few of his female classmates cattily mention as they watch he and Anna embrace, but Joseph is thrilled to see her. A smile grows on his face and his oration takes new energy.

He's more than his D.N.A. He has enough intelligence and work ethic to graduate at the top of his class. Genetics of another person, of a mutant, won't determine his future. Joseph won't allow it to.

Joseph closes his speech not as a mutant, not as Magneto's clone, but as Michael Stockton's son, Kyle Stockton's brother, and Anna Marie D'Ancanto's boyfriend, but more importantly, friend.

* * *

The air is warm that night, but not uncomfortably so, which Joseph is grateful for, as Michael insists on taking dozens of pictures of Joseph and Kyle in their caps and gowns. He even snaps of few of Joseph holding the bouquet of a dozen roses Anna presented to him at the ceremony- three red, three dark pink, and three orange.

But before they can go out and celebrate graduation, there's work to be done.

As their father prepares for their outing to the sophisticated restaurant, Joseph absently uses the remote to click the kitchen flatscreen to power, and sees the news footage- an enormous robot is trekking through Brooklyn, crushing cars beneath its colossal feet, firing blasts with its eyes, causing buildings to crumble.

Joseph thunders upstairs, whipping on his prepared outfit of black clothing with similarly-colored workgloves and boots with such speed that he could challenge the quick-change artists of Vegas. He races to Kyle's door, which opens before he can urgently pound on the wood. Kyle is dressed much like himself.

"I'm coming, too," Kyle declares, holding up two colorful lucha libre masks.

Joseph doesn't argue- he's thankful to have someone to help him.

It's a long way to run, so they hightail it to Brooklyn in a cab and exit the car a few block away from where the robot is running amok. They don their masks in a back alley before sprinting to the scene.

The humongous mecha looms ahead of them as they run toward it, and the strangest sensation overwhelms Joseph- a _pull_ of sorts, an urge to leave the ground behind him and soar into the sky.

But the majority of his attention is directed at the immense robot in front of him, so he pays little mind to the impulse, instead summoning every ounce of his willpower, concentrating with every fiber of his being.

"Help the civilians," he orders Kyle, who nods and runs off to aid the people who have become injured and trapped during the robot's rampage.

Joseph closes his eyes, visualizing the robot in his mind, but this time with its eyes ripped from its sockets, metal legs folded like tinfoil, rendering it immobile. Arms coiled like corkscrews, body warped and twisted, too damaged to function.

Power surges within him, flowing from him, as he pours his focus and determination into the image. He opens his eyes, and his hands move in unexpected gestures, like he's a marionette and someone else is pulling the strings. But despite the chaos, serenity floods through Joseph, as his commands are obeyed: flaws and dents begin appearing in the metal, then large sections of steel start to peel and curl upwards.

Using as much energy as he can muster, Joseph rearranges the metal plating on its legs and fixes it there, locking the steel monstrosity into place. Joseph lurches and sways, dizzy from expending that amount of effort all at once.

He has no need to worry, though- out of the corner of his eye, he spots a large form hurtling through the air towards the robot. As his vision refocuses, the single large form turns out to be two smaller ones- Anna, in her Ms. Marvel II uniform, firmly holding that Kitty girl, also in costume, by her side. Once above the mecha, Anna drops Kitty downwards, who fades _through_ the thing's head.

There's a spattering of sparks and crackling of electricity around the eyes, and Kitty emerges out the other side. Anna swoops down to catch her and brings her down to an area of the ground where civilians are cowering. Kitty promptly joins Kyle in his efforts to take the bystanders to safety.

Exhausted and jittery, Joseph is no longer sure how much longer he'll be able to remain upright; the robot has trouble as well. The hulking mass of metal teeters, then topples.

Joseph barely manages to outstretch a hand to guide and slow its descent before Anna appears, tearing the robot's head clean off with a ferocity even her mask can't disguise, then easily lowering the both the motionless head and body to the street.

After her task is finished, she rises back into the air with the intention of flying over to him, but to his surprise, Joseph finds himself meeting her halfway. At first, he's terrified, but then giddiness overcomes his fear and exhaustion, and he zooms toward her.

Anna has removed her full head mask, revealing that beneath it is another mask, this one of the domino variety, covering only her eyes and upper cheeks. "Just full of surprises, aren't you, Joe?"

"That's right," Joe grins even as he rolls up his lucha libre mask past his mouth to allow for conversation.

Her jocular demeanor disappears. "Joe, that robot was specifically designed to hunt mutants. Kitty told me. She's an amazing tech geek, and she saw the internal mechanisms of its control center. It's begun."

So here it is. The conflict they've always know would occur has at last reared its ugly head.

Gently, Joseph traces the top few lines of the lightning bolt on her chest. Anna, a well-known Avenger, a lesser known S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, took down a highly-visible mutant-hunting robot while in her very recognizable uniform, in broad daylight, in full view of the public. Undoubtably, there will be repercussions for her actions.

She's already made her choice. She chooses to fight, not in the shadows, but in the day, when she's certain to draw attention and criticism.

Now, he too must make a choice.

"I'll fight with you," Joseph murmurs. "I'll fight on behalf of the X-Men."

Their lips meet, and they wrap their arms around each other, entangled as their bodies rise upwards.

It's just for a moment. Joseph doesn't know what the future holds, and he knows that they're not going to be together forever.

But at the moment, they have each other, among other things.

And at the moment, being together is what matters.

**The End**

* * *

**A/N:** Points to you if you get the "stay gold" reference.

Can you tell that I've re-watched the Star Wars movies lately?

That's the end. Sorry everybody, this story is complete, and I don't don't want to overdo it. Maybe one day I'll write another fic about Joseph and his family, but that's it for now.

FYI, the robot was a Sentinel.

Joseph's bouquet from Rogue- dark pink roses indicate appreciation and gratitude, red roses mean love and respect, while orange roses are supposed to promote a relationship. A dozen roses generally means someone wants a relationship to continue.

Thank you to all my lovely reviewers. I couldn't have done it without your feedback. A special thank you to **lychee loving**, who has faithfully reviewed this story and many of my others. You rock, girl!

I'm glad people seem to like this story, it was my first official "romance" type of fic. I'm also happy that I'm not alone in my support of Rogue/Joseph.

Peace and joy.


End file.
